A/N: Sorry for such a long wait. Legit, my life spiraled out of my control and I had to take such a long break before I could even touch any story. As you may have known, my mental state has been fucking shit and it's still not good but it has its ups and downs. I've had a lot of up times recently so I hope to update more soon.

This chapter is backed with stuff so forgive me if it's too heavy and I'm not completely satisfied with it as I feel like it's bland but still, I wanted to give you something for your support :)

Chapter 26: Changes

April 20, 1790

Thomas Jefferson sat at his desk, reading the letter over and over. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the jilted words, ink smeared in haste.

To the one and only Thomas Jefferson,

You know we're not friends, but desperate times calls for desperate measures. If you could see my husband's face, it would be clear as day that he is aging every day under the stress of trying to keep our country together.

We're both so tired. Politics plays a heavy toll on both of our sanities. You might've heard of the name Robespierre? Would you deem me insane if you heard of our alliance?

I can't believe it myself at times.

I've tried writing to Alexander but he won't respond. If you don't either, I'll go to the President.

You must convince George Washington to help France. Children are being raised on violence - there are people dying every day. Not one goes by without gunshots.

Jefferson, this isn't a plea. I am commanding you. There's no luxury or time to waste because I fear, that if this continues on without help - this bloody civil war - we will all be dead. Fear spreads across the country - peasants burn down their aristocrats' homes. The women marched to Versailles in October and forced the family to live in the city. Marat has gained crowd favour and escaped arrest. Do you think that we will stay alive long as violence rules the citizens' heads? Especially with Lafayette being in the position that he is.

Thomas tried to imagine the spitfire brunette lying dead on the cobblestones, blood pooling around her, a gunshot through the head. Or even the guillotine, her head in a basket, the metal stained with blood. That was the fashion back in France. But then he thought of Lafayette, cheeks and eyes sunken in, features sharp and black circles around his eyes. A streak of gray through his hair as he hugged his children, trying to keep in his own tears.

Or Genevieve herself, eating dinner at the Lafayette home, the seat across from her empty. And when she slept, the bed wore uneven because that side was reserved only for one man. The children would never stop crying, asking for their Papa. Too young to understand before growing older, growing crueler because he was gone.

Then he knew what the worst case was. The twins out on the streets, nothing left in their name due to their parents. Genevieve and Lafayette, both long dead as Emmeline was forced into unspeakable acts and Georges could do nothing but work in factories where conditions were unbearable. He saw the children's round faces, as he last saw them, eyes wide and pouting and saw their faces become thin, eyes weary and hair dull. A shiver crawled up his spine.

When have I ever been this desperate, Thomas? There was a surprise; she was using his name. I don't know- the words were scribbled out and he couldn't read it. Bringing the letter closer, he tried to make it out but failed. -what will come next after this revolution. The monarchy falls, and what comes next? Robespierre speaks of the Jacobins who are eager for power and the Girondists, who will do anything to find stability.

With those two opposing forces, I can't see an end to this bloodshed.

We are all so very tired.

Genevieve Alcott, la marquise de Lafayette; February 26, 1790

Shit. It's all he can think. The letter dated back long ago - it was a wonder he was getting it now. Then dread filled his soul. They must've thought he had abandoned them. That everyone was.

Thomas Jefferson stood from his desk in the White House, bracing himself against the wood. The signature was half-assed, barely legible and so is the date. He wondered how quickly Genevieve wrote this or if she even thought before the words fell onto the page.

Hand clutching the letter, he got out of his office and tried to take a deep breath, finding it difficult through his tight throat. Storming into the President's office, his mouth opened but no words came out when he saw George Washington, elbows on the table and his forehead leaning against clasped hands.

"Hello, Secretary Jefferson." The tall man stood, a letter on his own desk. Instead of Genevieve's slanted writing, it's full of Lafayette's curled ones as Thomas approached the desk. He set down his letter before glancing at his President. George Washington gave a weary nod and he slid his letter over.

Your Excellency,

I hope this letter isn't too out of line but I beg of you. If anyone will help us, it is you. No one is responding - Alexander, Jefferson, - we don't know who else to turn to. As leader of the great nation, France begs for your help.

Recently, Genevieve has become with child again and I cannot begin to stress how hard this is on all of us. As much as I am overjoyed, there is always a saying of terrible timing. It is only our luck, I suppose. She's only a few weeks along and with me being away as much as I am, I fear that we're still those young soldiers of nineteen.

Thomas tried to imagine the weak humour weaved in his friend's tone - the fake smile.

I digressed. Currently, Genevieve hovers over my shoulder, anger radiating off her very being. The children are upstairs sleeping and for now, the streets of Paris are quiet. In the morning, chaos will resume.

I consider you as a friend, a leader, and a father. I hold you closely in my heart and I only hope that you do as well. If you can't send help, at least give me a reason why. Give us a reason.

Yours,

Lafayette; March 16, 1790

Mr. Jefferson and the President met gazes and Thomas ran a hand over his face.

"And what are you going to do?" Thomas asked, voice cold. And he knew the answer as soon as George Washington did not dare look into his eyes.

"What I have to."

May 31, 1790

To the Lafayette family,

The issue was brought to our attention during the cabinet meeting. It was decided that our own problems must be placed ahead of our allies. After all, if we try to fight in every revolution in the world, where do we stop? Where do we draw the line?

Alexander Hamilton

Treasury Secretary

April 25, 1790

To Genevieve and Lafayette,

I fought for your side. Truly, I did. I know there's no reason for either of you to believe me. Mail was delayed; I would never postpone a response for you two. You both know that. Give your children my affections.

Thomas Jefferson; April 25, 1790.

In response, Genevieve sat down the letter and began to write later that night.

Thomas,

We both know that. Although the initial sting of you deserting us plagued us for weeks, we know that you aren't someone to shy away from revolution or just one angry brunette. Otherwise, you wouldn't have stayed for as long as you did once we arrived. You are not someone to be one shoe in nor are you disloyal. You have been Lafayette's friend for a long time and I highly doubt you'd cross the Famous Fighting Frenchman and his American Wife.

Any names for our baby?

Genevieve Alcott; May 31, 1790

June 23, 1790

Thomas sighed once he read the letter. He was glad that they could see his genuine feelings despite how poorly crafted his letter was. With a slight, sad smile, he responded with something short.

If it's a girl, Virginia. If it's a boy, Thomas.

To the Presidency of George Washington,

How quick witted of you all. It's a grand sight to see that you are all playing the part of politician. It's truly unfortunate you had to sacrifice our friendship in the wake of that. You are in our thoughts as I believe we are in yours.

I have the honour to be Your Obedient Servant,

Genevieve Alcott, la marquise de Lafayette; May 31, 1790

Eliza read the letter to the Presidency and tried to stifle the anger in her throat. Closing her eyes, she shoved the letter back under the books where she had found them in Alexander's study before going out. The children were out spending time with their father and she was tasked with taking care of little Magda.* Peggy was upstairs resting after giving birth a second time, her baby son sleeping in the same room.

"What are you doing in here?" A new voice made her turn and she saw Peggy lean against the doorframe gingerly. She looked exhausted, hair a mess.

"You should be resting." Eliza chastised, coming to his sister's side and guiding her out. Closing the door behind her, she tried not to show her anger but Peggy could always read people, even if she didn't use it to her advantage.

"And you should be watching Magda but we all have our short ends, don't we?" She retorted. "What were you reading that caused a storm to settle atop your head?"

"The life and death crisis in France and how we are doing nothing to help them." Eliza's tone was hard and cold.

"It's something to do with Genevieve, isn't it?" Peggy clarified for her and Eliza looked away. "What is it, exactly?" The sisters gazes met and when Eliza explained the situation, blood rushed to Peggy's face.

"Alexander did what?"

August 29, 1790

"You look absolutely radiant." The room was quaint, dusty with disuse.

"Thank you." Genevieve watched Robespierre settle the tray of tea in front of her. Resting a hand on her rounded abdomen, she glared at him. "The monsieur and I agreed that more children would be better for the estate."

"But wouldn't that mean more insects to split the will?" He pointed out and she didn't respond. She made sure Robespierre sipped first before she did. "Do not worry, Genevieve, I wouldn't poison the tea of an ally."

"You would if you think they're going behind your back." She pointed out.

"And where is your husband? You've been spending an awfully lot of time here, madame."

"He rides for Nancy. A rebellion's broken out and national guards are having trouble keeping it down." She gave the politician a polite smile. "The Declaration of Pillnitz, I assume you're not happy about that." Robespierre's face became stony and cold.

"Of course not. The Queen's brother couldn't have been more inconvenient." The alliance between the King Louis, the Holy Roman Empire and Prussia had made a dent in the rebels' plans to overthrow the government. "Jacques Pierre Brissot - the Girondist leader -" she nodded, "He thinks that they're to declare war."

"I've heard. He's gaining rapid influence. Though one cannot fault Emperor Leopold to protect his sister."

"I suppose."

And then they had a suffocating silence. Genevieve's green eyes darted around the room.

"What do you need?"

"Nothing, as of now. I just thought we should have a nice afternoon tea." Robespierre replied with a cheshire grin.

"And how are the Jacobins?" She probed, "I haven't heard from Marat or Desmoulins recently. Not even Danton."

"Danton's gone and had a son." He informed and Genevieve arched an eyebrow in genuine surprise.

"He had a son."

"Exactly. What a strange concept that is. But then again, look at you." She snorted in an unladylike fashion and took another sip of her tea. It was flavourless and bland but she didn't comment on it.

"Look at me." She echoed dryly and leaned back against the chaise. "We live in strange times, monsieur. Camille Desmoulins, I hear, is in the midst of earning a father's permission to marry a woman. Danton has a family, Marat has been forced into hiding in the Parisian sewers. It's as if our revolution is losing it's momentum."

"No, madame. Trust me." There was a cruel curl of Robespierre's lip as he smiled fakely at her, "It is barely beginning."

December 12, 1791

Angelica watched the coming ship return with anticipation. Silk gloves being twisted nervously in her hands, she waited as many disembarked. Different men and women of all heights boarded as soon as the gangway was lowered. The oldest Schuyler sister waited patiently though she couldn't help but fear for them. She hadn't heard from the Lafayettes in months and suddenly, a letter appeared out of the blue.

Where are they? Angelica thought uneasily, waiting. The stream of people was thinning and still they haven't disembarked.

Then she saw them.

Dressed in dark greys and black, they were barely seen but Angelica had a trained eye to spot her. Waving a hand, she slipped her gloves into her clutch as the group of three walk over. The tallest has their eyes trained on the floor but when they're closer, green eyes flash and meet hers through the fog. The hood is pulled down to reveal brown hair tied up in a bun.

"Angelica," Genevieve choked out upon seeing her old friend and they embraced tightly. Angelica could feel the bundle in the brunette's arms and looks keenly inside. There lies a baby, just over a year old. "Emmeline, Georges, this is your Aunt Angelica. You may remember her from when we first went to France." Angelica nearly started at the French lilt in her friend's tone, however faint it was. "You're going to stay with her for a little while before going to America. Remember?"

"Yes, Mama," one of the twins chorus and by the deeper tone, it was obviously Georges. The nine-year old children glanced at the British woman before looking back at their mother. "And we will watch over Virginie for you."

"I will watch Virginie." Emmeline corrected and Angelica smiled slightly. The child's locks were growing long, a beautiful golden brown. "You will protect all of us." At this, Emmeline and Georges shared a look that only they could understand. Angelica sure as hell did not. Genevieve turned her attention back to the Schuyler.

"Lafayette and I cannot begin to express our thanks. Angelica," green eyes searched brown, "thank you."

"Children do not deserve to die in an adult's war. You are only protecting them." She replied, taking Virginie from Genevieve's arms. The bundle was quiet, asleep as she, on instinct, burrowed closer to Angelica. There was a pang in her chest, at how cute the little child was, but when she looked at her old friend, she was struck by the absolute heart break in her eyes. "She'll know who you are. We will all promise you that." There were tears trailing down her cheeks and Emmeline hugged her mother.

"Be brave, Mama." Emmeline whispered and although the two older ones were trying to put on a brave act, it was clear the firstborns were close to breaking down as well. "Tell Papa we love him." Genevieve crouched so she could look at her son and her eldest daughter.

"Sweethearts, he already knows." And with that, they launched themselves into her arms and began crying in earnest. "I love you both so much. You're so brave. I love you." She repeated as a mantra and Angelica felt out of place, watching the family split up. Sniffing, the revolutionary stood and wiped at her tears.

"We can still stay, Mama." Georges argued weakly, holding onto his mother still.

"No. Be good for your Aunt Angelica, alright? And be nice to your sister, my brave little soldier." He puffed his chest out, biting his lip to stem more tears as Genevieve turned to her daughter. "And you," she swallowed, voice throaty, "you take care of your brother and Virginie."

"I'll make sure she knows who you are." Emmeline promised and Genevieve squeezed her eyes shut before opening them, more tears streaming down her face.

"I love you." Angelica found herself staring into the blotchy face of the brunette. Leaning forward, she stood so Genevieve could stare at her baby's face. "Never forget that I love you, sweetheart. We will see each other soon." A gentle kiss is brushed against the sleeping baby's forehead, salty with tears. "Angelica,"

"I know." And they hugged once more. Angelica kissed the woman's cheek, tasting her salty tears and seeing the emptiness in the woman's eyes once she pulled back. "I never wanted this for you."

"It's a choice Lafayette and I both made." Genevieve's jaw set, lips pressed in a thin line. "And sometimes I wish we had chosen different. But we couldn't let France destroy itself."

"I understand. If you can, write. I will as well."

"I know." Angelica smiled bitterly. "This isn't goodbye." Genevieve added softly before turning and pulling up her hood just as the ship's horn blared through the fog.

"Mama!" Georges yelled, "We love you!" There was no sign that they were heard as Angelica offered a hand to Emmeline. Normally, she wondered if the twin would even take it, but now she does as she stared into the ground. Georges followed half a step behind her on the other side, eyes forward resolutely, a near spitting image of his father. A sheath was looped in his belt and she wondered who's it was.

"Where are we going?" Emmeline asked tentatively as they boarded a carriage. Virginie was just beginning to wake and Angelica adjusted her hold. Georges was silent as he looked out the carriage but Angelica knew he was listening.

"Back to where I live. You will stay here a week before boarding the next ship to America."

"And our clothes?"

"My husband's valets are already recovering them." The woman assured the younger. "Sleep now, Emmeline." Angelica was not normally one for physical affection like this but gestured to her free shoulder. Emmeline laid her head lightly before the tidal wave of exhaustion hit her and she leaned more heavily on Angelica. There was a long road ahead of them.

December 25, 1792

When Genevieve came back, the first sight was Lafayette lounged on the couch. The two met gazes before she looked away. The fight they had before she left was not one they were proud of. It was Lafayette's idea first to send their children away and she was objected to it, as much as it made sense. She had given birth to their daughter, for Heaven's sake and she practically had to raise them on her own. Not that she blamed Lafayette. Not that she wanted to blame Lafayette.

"Come here, Gen." Lafayette's weary voice pierced through the muddiness in her ears. She was just shedding her coat when she glanced at him. He waved a hand and she came over, throat tiny as a needle.

"Laf," she crawled onto the furniture with him, breath hitching. His own tears make his eyes red and puffy and he kissed her hair weakly. It broke all her defenses and soon she became a sobbing mess, fists grabbing fabric of his shirt as she buried her face in his shirt. "They're gone. They're gone."

"I know, Gen, I know." He murmured, voice hoarse and cracked. She wondered how many hours he had cried, unable to breathe because their family was in the process of being ripped apart. Already, she missed Emmeline constantly chatting and Georges quiet presence by her side. She missed Virginie crying for attention and Gerard shushing the child in the middle of the night.

Sobbing, she couldn't stop her shuddering breaths, shaking shoulders and ugly crying as eyes became puffy and breathing became difficult and stuffy. He held her all the while, tears coming unobstructed down his face.

"They will be fine," Lafayette repeated as if a mantra. As if somehow, that would make it okay.

January 27, 1792

Eliza sat at the docks with her husband and John Laurens. Hercules and Peggy were to come soon. Philip was playing with his little siblings near the water and she kept a careful eye on them.

"Are you sure it's today?" Alexander asked quietly, uneasy. Eliza nodded stiffly, not looking at her husband at all. "Betsey-"

"Be quiet, Alex." Her voice was flat, cold as ice as she watched the ship appear on the horizon. She was still angry at her husband. It had only melted away only to come back in full force when she had received a letter from Angelica about their current situation. In fact, Eliza scarcely wanted to talk about their newest addition to the family that currently still resided inside her as a tiny bump. "If you don't want to be here, then you can go to the office."

"Eliza," John cautioned, "we don't want them to be scared when they come over."

"I know." She told him and they fall into silence, watching the ship come closer and closer. Hercules and Peggy come along after, watching as well. The air is filled with heavy anticipation and Eliza recited what Angelica had said they'd be wearing in her head.

Emmeline grows to be a spitting image. She will most likely be the one doing most of the talking. Georges doesn't like to speak to strangers. He wears his hair like his father with a heavy coat and boots. Emmeline will most likely be wearing a dress. The letter had said. Don't be surprised if they don't talk to you. They'll have been at sea for weeks. Even while they're here, they barely talk to me or my husband. My children even less. They stay in their rooms or are with their baby sister.

The ship docked, gangplank lowered as people began leaving the vessel.

None of the adults spoke still until Peggy raised her head from John's shoulder.

"What if they aren't here? What if they never made it?" She asked and Eliza felt coldness wash over her.

"Peggy, we don't talk like that. They made it." John warned with a glance at Eliza. Alexander leaned forward, arms on his knees as he watched them disembark.

"Do they have an escort?" asked Hercules. "Or are nine year olds and a baby travelling alone?"

"Angelica just had her own child." Eliza argued. Alexander Church, a light baby who hasn't cried since he was born but still squirms and feeds like a fresh babe. Named after the most insufferable man on the planet. As quoted from Angelica's latest letter. "And John Church will not risk his political career for children he barely knows." As the crowd thickened everywhere, Eliza and her companions had to stand to see and even then, only Hercules could see clearly - Alexander just barely and John not at all.

Eliza's children fled to her as she and Peggy sat - Philip, Angelica, Alexander Jr. and James Alexander. The youngest, James, crawled into her lap while Philip carried Alexander Jr. and Angelica held onto her father.

"Philip, bring Junior here." John called and the oldest child did so.

"Who are we waiting for, Papa?" Angelica inquired and Alexander patted his daughter's hair as he answered.

"Some new friends for you and your siblings to play with, parakeet."** Angelica giggled as the crowd began to thin. Friends found friends, family found family but still there was no sign of them. Perhaps they were having trouble, Eliza reasoned, but still, a dark pit began to grow in her stomach.

"You are all useless, you know?" A new voice drawled. Alexander's hackles immediately raised, tensing. Angelica raised her head and Eliza turned to see the ever flamboyant Thomas Jefferson.

"Jefferson." Alexander greeted through gritted teeth. He wore not his trademark magenta, but a dark navy trench coat of velvet and rimmed with silk at the breast. In his hand was his cane, golden globe serving as the grip.

"Hamilton." He nodded back. "Why Genevieve chose you to house her children is beyond me." He commented, "But I thought it would be fitting if I was here as well."

"Why?"

"Well, dear Hamilton, the children actually know me." Jefferson retorted but then his demeanor completely changed when he looked up. His face lit up with a smile and he had a spring in his step as he pushed aside the crowd. Peggy and Eliza shared looks before following after him, children in tow. The three fourths of the old Revolutionary Set chased after the women while the children both giggled at the fast pace and complained at the sudden, jarring movements.

The sight before them nearly made Alexander drop his daughter.

There Jefferson was, cane dropped to the ground. He embraced two children, one taller than the other.

"Monsieur Jefferson!" The shorter child exclaimed, hugging the Secretary of State's neck tightly.

"Hello, Emmeline." He whispered back as the children were put back on the ground. Jefferson pulled back to reveal two children, one with tumbling golden hair and another with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. "And Georges! Look at you. Have you been taking care of your sister?"

"Oui, monsieur." He replied, hands in his trenchcoat pockets as he glanced at his twin. Emmeline brought someone out from under her coat, a little baby cradled in her arms. Jefferson's smile grew by ten as he took the baby into his arms.

"Her name is Virginie." Eliza smiled at how touched the Secretary looked. "Mama said she named her after you. But I do not understand why."

"Why, because I come from Virginia." He explained briefly. Then, the man sobered up and remembered the others." Emmeline, Georges, this is Eliza Hamilton. I'm sure your parents informed you of her."

"Aunt Eliza," Emmeline said although there was no familiarity in her voice. Eliza stepped forward, hands clasped in front of her.

"You know when I saw you, I could still hold you in my arms." Eliza smiled warmly at the two children as they shared glances at each other. Virginie opened her eyes, surrounded by strangers in a foreign land and began to cry. Emmeline immediately began to shush her though her movements were erratic with weariness and frustration.

"Here, let me help." Peggy offered. "You look exhausted." When Emmeline regarded the woman warily and Georges settled a hand on his hip where a weapon could be concealed, she smiled slyly, "Peggy Schuyler-Laurens. Your aunt. Come on, now," the woman took the baby, rocking her back and forth.

"Monsieur," Georges still looked unsure, glancing at Jefferson who nodded. He had a impassive mask on his face as the children of the Hamiltons both stayed near their parents. The two children looked intimidating but Philip openly extended a hand to Emmeline bravely.

"Come on. We can take you back to our house. Mother's a great cook." He assured and Emmeline looked back at Jefferson who nodded. She chewed on the inside of her cheek before turning back to the oldest Hamilton child.

"Fine." Emmeline accepted though she did not take Philip's hand. "Lead the way to your carriage." John and Hercules smirked at Philip's embarrassed blush as Georges gave the boy an evil eye.

"Hamilton," Jefferson called to his colleague to keep him behind. The shorter man waited, turning around as the Southern man laid a hand on his arm. "If they're difficult or you don't know what to do, I'm open to come over." It was the most civil thing the man had ever said to him genuinely. "I know the children and they know me. I only want what's best for them." Alexander regarded the man warily.

"Of course. Thank you." The Secretary of State nodded, letting his iron grip on the other politician loosen. The Virginia regarded the Caribbean-born man for a moment before the latter turned to rejoin his family. The two French children holding their little sister stayed close to each other and, for a brief moment, Thomas swore he could see the dagger engraved with G.L. holstered on Georges' belt.

A/N: Plot heavy af with no fluff. I'm hoping to make characters more fleshed out which means Genevieve gets to blame Lafayette and Eliza has the coldest shoulder in all the land. :)

REVIEWS:

Kitty of 2 kingdoms: If Gen leaves, who'd take care of Lafayette? She's too loyal to just leave. Thanks for reviewing.

Tabbycat: Same, bro. I hate Robespierre irl and in this fic. But I love writing him.

The Silvernote: Haha, thank you :)

jungkookies: I'm so glad that they're better. And it's fine because I didn't update for weeks anyways. Thanks for waiting.

stranger ways: thanks bb.

Dulharpa: ikr jfccccc i hate him so much thanks for reviewing!

Azalea: Thanks for all the reviews! Luckily for you, Laurens did not die in this fic because he was too busy marrying and impregnating Peggy ;) Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

JeffersonIsDaddy: Nope. I do not give up on any of my fics. Was just taking a break but I'm back for this chap. :)

* … taking care of little Magda. Magda is Peggy and John's daughter!

** "… your siblings to play with, parakeet." Little Angelica liked music and I hear she liked birds so I found it suiting that Alexander would call her that as parakeets can sing/chirp and all that.